


The Green-Eyed Boy

by brave_little_lioness94



Series: This Cruel Yet Beautiful World [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Eremika - Freeform, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 18:21:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1122895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brave_little_lioness94/pseuds/brave_little_lioness94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an accident that has left Mikasa Ackerman an orphan for almost a year, the quiet college sophomore struggles with issues of depression and anxiety. Although she is conflicted between being the brave, little lioness her parents knew her as or giving up on life completely, she continues faces each new day, feeling lonely but trying her best to mask her emotions and handle things on her own.</p><p>And then she meets a strange boy, Eren Yeager, whose bright green eyes and warm smile will slowly start to break down Mikasa's cold exterior and remind her that the cruel world she lives in is also full of beauty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Green-Eyed Boy

The electronic tone buzzes beside my head, although I have been awake long before the alarm was set to go off. Aside from an hour or two at most, I didn’t sleep all night. Not that a bad case of insomnia is a rarity for me. I spend countless nights tossing underneath my covers, unable to turn off my thoughts long enough to slip into complete unconsciousness. But as of late, it seems that I am suffering from it worse than usual.  
I have a guess as to why and the reason is most likely because the anniversary is coming. I’m not anticipating it in any way, but I can’t seem to scratch the thoughts of it from my mind, no matter how hard I try to numb myself from them.  
They are always there—the dark thoughts. If they aren’t front and center, they are buried in the back of my head, festering there like painful, little cuts that make paying attention in class unmanageable or staying focused at work difficult.  
Either way, the thoughts make life somewhat of a living hell and with the time of the anniversary drawing closer, they are only getting more intense.  
And it scares me.  
But I need to keep living and moving forward with my life. That’s what they would have wanted, even if all I want to do is curl up in a ball and waste away in the comfort of my bed. It would be nice, I think. To turn off the lights and not worry about the insurance money coming in time, or how many hours I will have to work a week to afford classes next semester.  
I hug Leo, my favorite stuffed animal, closer to my chest as a chill goes down my spine. What were you thinking just then? You can’t think like that, Mikasa.  
I sigh and bury my face into my doll, which my mother gave me years ago. I had just turned six and in celebration my parents took me to the zoo for the first time. Looking back on it, it was probably one of the best days of my life…

 

The sky was clear and the sun shone down on me and my parents as we walked hand in hand down the stone pathways. I cried in excitement as I pulled them toward all the exhibits, pointing out how tall the giraffes were and laughing at how silly the monkeys acted. They were all animals I had never seen before in person and I examined them in wonder.  
But the animals that captivated me the most were the lions. They paced around their rock-filled exhibit proudly. With each powerful stride, their muscles rippled underneath their velvety skin. I stood there pressing my face and hands against the glass, my eyes and mouth wide open in wonder. My parents had stood there patiently as I marveled at the large cats for what was probably ten minutes.  
At the very end of the day, my mom went off on her own as my dad distracted me with ice cream cones. When she came back, she had a bag with her, which was adorned with illustrations of zoo animals. She knelt down before me with a small grin on her face and told me to look into the bag. I smiled widely and dove into it. I remember gasping loudly in delight as I pulled out a lovely stuffed lion, with a mane of golden fur exploding around its neck.  
“Mommy! I love it so much!” I cried as I hugged the toy tightly, swinging it back and forth happily.  
My mom smiled widely, the dark eyes that we shared shining, “I’m glad, angel. I thought you should have one of your own since you seemed to like them so much.”  
“I do! I love them so, so much!” I stroked the mane of my new doll, brimming with joy, “They are so pretty.”  
My mom looked to my dad and they both chuckled.  
“Yes, they are very pretty,” My mom ran her hand through my long, black hair, “And you know what else? They are also very brave. They will do anything to protect their family from danger.”  
My young face scrunched together in thought as I gazed into the plastic eyes of my lion, and then up at my mom and dad.  
“What is it, Mikasa?” My dad asked, tilting his head to the side as he placed a hand on my shoulder.  
“I think…Mommy and Daddy must be lions then,” I smiled, nodding my head, “They protect me and love me so much. They are like the lions.”  
My parents exchanged wide grins, entertained by my childish train of thought. My mom scooped me up in her arms, holding me in a loving embrace.  
“Yes, my love, we are like lions. We are here to protect you and love you forever.”  
“Even if forever ends?” I asked, wrapping my arms around her neck.  
My mother rubbed the back of my head, “Yes, my little lioness—even if forever ends…”

 

“Forever,” I whisper quietly to myself, hugging the doll closer. Though I had grown out of stuffed animals years ago, I always kept Leo. Even as the years left him more and more battered, he always remains on my bed, with his now matted mane and juice-stained fur. He serves as a reminder of my parents’ love and to be brave and face the world.  
Which is what I need to do now—I am going to be late for the first class of a new semester if I sit here reminiscing any further.  
With a sigh, I sit up in bed and set Leo aside. I stretch my arms above my head, groaning, before kicking my blankets off and shuffling over to my dresser. I reach inside and pull out the first sweater and pair of jeans my hand finds. I was never really one to worry about the latest fashion and still don’t concern myself with the current wardrobe trends.  
Especially now when I don’t care to get out of bed every day, let alone dress myself.  
I shed my pajamas and throw on my clothes. I grab the brush off the top of my dresser and run it through my dark hair, which has since been cut short since the day at the zoo. I walk over to my desk to collect my backpack and stop at my full length mirror. Since I don’t care about my appearance, I hardly ever use the thing, but today I stop to look because what I am wearing does actually catch my eye. I look at my reflection for a moment and then down at the sweater I chose.  
It had belonged to my dad, so it’s a bit big on me. But as far as clothes go, it is one of my favorite things to wear. It’s only a simple, gray wool sweater, but my dad would wear it often during the winter months because it’s so warm. I can imagine him sitting in his armchair, dressed in this sweater, reading the newspaper and sipping at a cup of coffee my mother brewed for him.  
I lift the shirt’s collar up past my nose and inhale, hoping to catch a scent of my father. I sigh as I pick up a faint smell of the cologne he wore—my mother always joked how potent it was, after all. A tear forms in my eye and I quickly wipe it away.  
No. It’s too early in the day to break. I have to wait till classes and my work shift is over. Then I am free to come back and cry. Or try to block the emotions, which I am getting quite good at after practicing for so long.  
I clear my throat as I turn to retrieve my backpack from my desk. I double-check to make sure I have my books. It’s not as if we actually use them like we were told we would, but it is better to be safe than sorry.  
I stride over to my bedroom door, plucking my jacket from the place on the ground I left it yesterday. I turn to survey my room, making sure I’m not leaving anything I need behind. My eyes catch sight of Leo, laying there on my bed. His dull, plastic eyes look up at me and I am reminded of that day at the zoo and how great of a time it was.  
And how the joy I experienced that day is a sentiment I will never feel again. Leo is also reminder how, on that day, a promise was made to me—a promise that, thirteen years later, was broken by one tragic accident. Even though it was beyond mine or my parents’ control, our forever together had ended and now I am alone in this house, haunted by my own thoughts and memories that threaten to tear me apart day after day.  
Yet, despite the torment, I push onward.  
Because even if I’m all alone…  
Because even if I miss them…  
Because even though the world is cruel…  
“I am their brave, little lioness and I have to survive.” I whisper into the air.  
The words hang around for a moment before I exit my room and face the day. 

 

* * * *

 

I gaze out the window as the winter scenery flashes past in a monotonous blur of white. Despite reliving memories in bed earlier, I made the train in time and am on my way to school. Maria Community College is only a twenty minute ride from my house and I could easily drive there myself, but I prefer to take the train. With gas so expensive nowadays, it’s cheaper. Plus I actually find it relaxing. For twenty minutes, I get to sit and watch the world pass in the fuzziness of motion blur. It’s a nice distraction from my thoughts, which is something I will always welcome.  
As I look out the window, I notice the world is beginning to become distinguishable again, as the train makes one of its few stops on this route. Instead of snow-covered fields, I am now looking at the faces of the few passengers waiting to board. As the doors open with a ding, they file on and accompany the few empty seats remaining. After a short grace period, the doors begin to close.  
“WAIT! Hold that door!”  
A male voice screams loudly from the boarding platform and is soon accompanied by a hand that slips in between the doors, just in time to re-open them. A young man quickly shuffles inside, and bends down with a sigh of relief. With my seat right next to him, I can feel the hot puffs of air coming from the late-comer as he pants heavily, trying to catch his breath.  
His dark hair covers his down-turned face, but from his clothes and the bulging backpack against his back, I know he is a student.  
“That was a close one. Almost missed the train on your first day of college. Way to be, Yeager, way to be.” The boy mumbles to himself as he stands up.  
His vivid, green eyes meet mine and as he straightens himself I quickly avert my gaze, turning to look back out the window as the train sets off again.  
From the corner of my eye, I see the boy look around for an empty seat only to find that his tardiness has left him without one. With a shrug, he remains standing and grabs ahold of the bar overhead to steady himself as the train gains momentum.  
A few minutes go by and the boy begins to hum to himself and tap his foot, even though he isn’t wearing any headphones. He is standing over me and every hitch the train makes I feel his body shift a bit closer to mine. I shuffle uncomfortably in my seat and clear my throat, a noise with which I unintentionally gain his attention.  
“Hey, are you a student?”  
I look up slowly and see that the boy is staring down at me with those blazing green eyes and a small smirk on his lips.  
“Yes.” I answer quietly and turn my gaze back to the window, hoping my short response will give him the impression I didn’t want to converse.  
“Me too! I’m actually starting my first day of college classes today. I guess I’m a bit nervous, but really I’m more excited than anything. I hear it’s a lot better than high school; they don’t treat you like a child as much, you know?”  
Wow. This boy is dense. And very talkative.  
“Yes.” I repeat my one-word response, tugging a lock of dark hair behind my ear.  
“Wow, your hair is so dark. I mean, my hair is a really dark shade of brown, but yours is actually black. Is that natural?”  
I wish I would have stayed in bed. This is not how I wanted this day to start: being pestered about my hair by some weird, chatty boy on the train. I plan on just simply ignoring his question and then he adds another, unexpected remark.  
“It’s very beautiful.”  
I tear my gaze away from the window and lift my head up to him once more. I can see from his expression that he is not being provocative or trying to irk me in any way. His words are sincere; he is simply being…kind.  
I am not used to receiving kind words, or words of any kind really, as I try not to talk to people very often. But as foreign as they are, they create a feeling of warmth in my chest and on my face…am I blushing?  
“Thank you.” I say quietly, looking past the boy to avoid his eyes.  
“Oh, you’re welcome.”  
A few moments of silence pass and instead of looking back out the window I sit forward, looking down at my hands. I glance up out of the corner of my eye and see the boy look down at me every now and again, biting his lips as if thinking of something to say. Eventually he does.  
“So what school do you go to?”  
“Maria Community College.” I answer, clenching the fabric of my jeans. I feel so strange having a conversation. The only person I ever really talk to is Hannes, my dad’s best friend and work partner, who stops by the house on occasion to check in on me and make sure everything is all right. I always tell him it is, although it really isn’t.  
“Really?!” The boy exclaims with such fervor that I give a jolt and stare up at him, wide-eyed and a bit dazed.  
“That’s where I’m going!” He is beaming, leaning over me with interest, “Do you like it there? Is the campus nice? Are there any asshole professors I should look out for?”  
“I—um—it’s—”  
I am sure my expression is frazzled by the bombardment of questions, because the boy leans backward into a standing position, pressing his fist against his mouth as he clears his throat.  
“Sorry about that!” He laughs a bit nervously, “I didn’t mean to overwhelm you with all these questions. My mom says I’m so full of energy that she could plug her phone into my ass and charge it.”  
I don’t know how to respond to such a thing. A year ago I may have found it funny and would have giggled. When I think about it, I haven’t heard my own laughter in so long. Awkward seconds of quiet pass and I can feel the train begin to slow, making its stop at our destination.  
The boy lets out a laugh of embarrassment “Oh god—why am I telling you that? Sheesh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you with all my weirdness.”  
Normally, I would agree with him.  
Generally, I don’t want to be spoken to by anyone. I just want to get through each day quickly and quietly. But for some reason, I actually don’t mind that this boy had interrupted my typically silent train ride. He was loud and maybe even a little annoying, sure, but he took the time to acknowledge me, which no one ever tends to do. Not that I ever really want people to…but still. It is nice to be exposed to this exertion of kindness. It makes me feel…significant. Maybe like I actually mean something.  
I want to speak to him. To tell him that he isn’t bothering me as much as he thinks. But I can’t find the words. Instead, I just nod, keeping my eyes set on the floor below me.  
Maria Community College. The automated voice reminds me that this is my exit. I stand up along with a few other students who shuffle off the bus.  
“Well, um, hey look, it was nice meeting you,” The boy says quickly, holding the door open so it won’t close on us, “My name is Eren Yeager, by the way. Maybe I will see you around?”  
I blink a few times, tucking my hair behind my ears again, not really knowing the best way to respond, “Y-yeah.”  
He smiles widely, “Sounds great. See ya!”  
And with that, he slips out the door. I stand there for a few moments, contemplating the exchange that just occurred between me and this boy…Eren Yeager. I am surprised I was not more annoyed by him and his exuberant personality. There was just something about the way he spoke to me…something that makes me feel…  
A ding snaps me back into reality and I step forward past the doors before they close on me. I stand on the boarding platform and my hair flows in motion with the gust created by the advancing train. I reach back and collect the loose strands, which I flatten back in place. I run my hand slowly through my hair and think back to those kind words Eren spoke to me.  
He called my hair beautiful.  
Beautiful. That was the word I was trying to think of. Even though he probably didn’t mean much by it, that short amount of time Eren spent talking to me made me feel beautiful and important. Like I meant something to him.  
And then…probably not. The last people I truly meant something to died almost a year ago and I haven’t felt that sense of importance since. As I begin walking toward the direction of my school, I remind myself that the world is not a kind place. It is hard to be happy when the place you live in threatens to take away the things that create that happiness.  
My mind envisions the smiles of my parents and how I will never again feel the warmth those smiles brought me. But then a new smile flashes in my head and I am surprised to see the bright face of Eren Jaeger, beaming as he exclaims to me that he attends the same school as me.  
What is this? I bring my jacket’s hood over my head, my brow furrowing. Why is his smile stuck in my head?  
For the same reason he was fixated with my black hair. For the same reason I look out the train window at the winter landscape. For the same reason I keep Leo year after year.  
Because it is beautiful.  
Even with all the shit in the world—all the awful pain of this earth that silences me and threatens to break my spirit and keep me from going on—there is still beauty in a lock of dark hair, in a snow-covered hillside. In the warm smile of a strange boy.  
Ah. That’s it. That’s why I keep trying.  
Because even though this world is full of pain is it also full of beauty. I can’t let myself forget that because the moment I do is the moment I condemn myself.  
And I can’t possibly do that. My parents wouldn’t want that for me.  
And the more I think about it, the more I realize I don’t want that for me either.


End file.
